


Nothing's as It Seems

by EvAEleanor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Beating, Blood, Broken-Hearted Harry, Bruises, Coercion, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Digital Art, Domestic Bliss, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Harry Potter In Love, Hogwarts Express, Hurt, Letters, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Minor Character Death, Newspaper announcement, Non-Consensual use of Veritaserum, POV Harry Potter, Passage of time, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood ideology, Return to England, Sexual Content, South America, Threats of Violence, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter), brief mention of suicidal thoughts, forced breakup, new life, no happy ending, showering, stuffed animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvAEleanor/pseuds/EvAEleanor
Summary: Harry Potter's world had been turned upside down more than once in his life, but with Draco Malfoy, he knew he had found a love that was rare and true. Harry had found his happy ending.It wasn't to be.All it took to ruin his life was a few lines in The Daily Prophet.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 29
Kudos: 88
Collections: H/D Hurt!Fest 2020





	1. Captivated by a Perfect View

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gnarf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnarf/gifts).



> Written for the prompt 53: They are in love, everything felt perfect. It was only them, and he was so happy. At least he thought that. Until he read the other's marriage announcement in the newspaper.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thank you gnarf for this amazing prompt. I had the idea in my head the minute I read your prompt, and I hope I did it justice.
> 
> To the lovely artist, thank you so much. I really didn't expect it. 
> 
> My amazing team of alphas, beta, and cheerers: Once this fic is revealed, I’m gonna thank you all properly. Without all of you, this fic would gather dust on my computer. 
> 
> Last but not least, special thanks to the mods. You’re incredible! Thank you for modding this fest. You’re absolute heroes.
> 
> * * *
> 
> The fic title and the title of every chapter are taken from songs by Our Last Night. They're gonna be listed at the end of the fic.

_23\. August 2002_

When Harry woke up, it was clearly still too early. The dim light shining through the window told him as much. He didn't even know why he woke up in the first place, and he should probably be annoyed, but how could he be? It was impossible to be annoyed about anything right now. The reason behind that was simply that he wasn't alone in his house. Curled up against him, his head on Harry's chest, lay none other than Draco Malfoy. 

It was a rare occasion that Harry could see him so peaceful, his face free from worry. Draco looked happy and relaxed. His hair was a wild mess, resembling Harry's own on a normal day, and Draco's lips had the faintest hint of a smile. The longer Harry looked at the man on top of him now, the faster his heart beat in his chest. Nobody else was allowed to see Draco as anything but his impeccable self. 

Harry inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes, focusing on Draco’s body atop his own. He grounded Harry, made him feel safe and like anything could be possible. When he felt his boyfriend stir, Harry ran his hand over Draco’s hair in a soothing motion. More than anything else, Draco needed sleep because his final year as a Potions Apprentice was coming to a close, and he was completely stressed out. 

Draco’s exams would start on Monday and run till Wednesday. And despite Harry using all his persuasiveness, and telling Draco that he would make himself practically invisible — or actually invisible by using the cloak — Draco insisted that he’d spend the next days at the manor in his room, being served by house-elves, and only moving out of his room when he actually had to. 

One the one hand, Harry was terribly sad because he wouldn’t be seeing Draco for almost a week, but on the other, he was excited about what would come on Thursday: their first official holiday as a couple. 

They had it all planned out. They would get a Portkey early in the morning and spend a week at a secluded, old Black family estate in Wales, only leaving the house when they really had to. 

It was a nice thought to have Draco all to himself for an entire week. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally say these words. Harry had told himself to wait for the perfect time and place. And the holiday was simply perfect. 

Just a little over two years ago, Harry would’ve laughed at himself because Draco Malfoy and him? A couple? What a ludicrous idea. Maybe when a cockatrice made the perfect pet. 

However, so many things had changed since the war. Draco had finished Hogwarts top of the class together with Hermione and had then gotten the apprenticeship at the apothecary in Diagon Alley — something Draco had never expected because of the Dark Mark. 

When they met again for the first time since the trials, Harry’s life had been rather difficult. He was still part of the Auror force, but the job weighed heavy on his mind. The nightmares had been bad, and overall he’d been exhausted. He dragged himself to work every day, but it was more out of duty than actual interest in the job. 

It had been a rainy September day, when Harry entered the apothecary in need of some Sleeping Draught, soaked from head to toe. It had started with an off-comment by Draco about him not being able to cast even the simplest spells and then turned into their usual banter. Though it was different. Draco’s replies lacked their former malice, and he smiled and even laughed at Harry’s statements. 

At first, Harry came back to the shop when he had a bad day at work, which happened very often, or simply felt shitty because Draco always said the right things to make him forget all the negativity in his life. Since they couldn’t just chat — Draco was still at work after all — Harry purchased something every time, eventually even a proper potion cabinet because the vials were lying everywhere in his house. 

Around Christmas, Harry plucked up his courage and asked Draco out.

“No, Potter.” 

Although Harry had been nervous, he’d never thought Draco would decline because Harry thought his intentions had been rather clear. Without another word, he’d made his way to the door of the shop and was about to leave when Draco had come after him.

“How about you join Hermione, Blaise, Neville and me at the pub next Saturday? We'll be attending the annual Potioneer’s lecture, this year about poisonous plants, and we want to grab a bite and pint afterwards.” 

The words were spoken so fast, Harry stood there baffled, not knowing what to reply. Maybe he also focused on the rather adorable blush on Draco’s face. Eventually, Harry shook his head slightly and asked, “Come again?”

“Would you like to go to the pub with Hermione, Blaise, Neville and me next Saturday?” 

“Sure, it’s a date,” Harry had replied, winking at Draco before leaving the shop. 

Opening his eyes again, Harry looked at Draco’s sleeping figure once more. He’d been an idiot back then because he’d actually believed that the pub night would pave the way for actual dates, just the two of them. Instead, Draco had made him a proposition last January. One year as friends, and if they made it past that, he’d go on a date with Harry. 

Harry shook his head. _What a blooming idiot I’ve been._

It took him only five weeks until he’d been drunk at the Burrow, sitting on the rug in front of the couch and vented his spleen to Ginny. He hated himself for ever agreeing to Draco's absurd idea. He’d been at a loss on how to survive eleven more months of this. Why on earth couldn’t they just do it like everybody else? Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated between them? 

“Is he really that thick Ginny, or is it just today?” Pansy had said, leaning against the wall. 

She’d gone up to Ginny’s old room after dinner, working on some article or so. The two of them had been a couple for six months at that point. Apparently, she’d been done with work and had searched for her girlfriend. 

Harry remembered the confused look on Ginny’s face, meaning that even she hadn’t understood what Pansy had meant. 

“Oh, you bloody Gryffindors,” she sighed. “Potter, you and Draco haven’t exactly been friends. Actually, the opposite.” 

“But why can’t we just try and see?” Harry had interrupted, a bit whiny. 

“Merlin and Morgana, why did Draco have to choose you of all people?” Pansy had mumbled to herself. 

She’d then proceeded to sit next to her girlfriend and give him an insight into Draco’s mind. Explained to him that Draco wasn’t the kind of person to commit lightly. Demanding this one year was a necessary precaution that had its origin in Draco's generally careful nature. He had to be absolutely certain that Harry wouldn’t just fuck him and then leave. Draco needed to see Harry was absolutely serious. They’d spent most of their time at the apothecary with Harry complaining about his job — he should definitely rethink his career choice — never out in the open as even friends, bar the one time at the pub. 

In retrospect, Harry was glad about Draco’s tenacity. The press had been all over them, speculating the wildest things, but they never got a photo of them in any compromising scenario. Instead, the issues had been filled with the pair of them attending Quidditch games with Teddy, a pub night with all their friends, or Draco helping Harry to get a new suit. The novelty wore off after a couple of front-page articles. 

And then there’d been the issue with proving to Draco Harry was serious about them. It hadn’t exactly gone as planned... Harry had bought Draco expensive presents and even tickets to events Harry would never have considered attending, but he was sure Draco would love. It backfired horribly because Draco had then been convinced that Harry only wanted him to be a notch on his bedpost. He had yelled at Harry. Told him unambiguously that Draco Malfoy was no common whore. If Harry wanted to shag him, he’d just have to say the word. They could do that here and now, but that this one time was all he would ever get. 

Harry would never forget that day. Draco had stormed out of Grimmauld Place, not contacting him for a fortnight. They saw each other again when Harry had to collect some potions for work — Bill had offered him a job as a Curse-Breaker after Harry had finally quit the Aurors — and Draco had been the one to sell it to him. 

Draco had eventually given in and agreed to meet him at a pub the same night, giving Harry some time to explain. 

The last obstacle they had to master had been their friends, Ron and Pansy in particular. Although Pansy had helped Harry a lot, she remained suspicious for a long time. Ron had been the hardest nut to crack. He couldn’t easily forgive Draco for all the things he’d done to his friends, to Hermione, and how he’d treated his family, but after roughly six months there’d been a real change in his behaviour. Harry still suspected Ginny and Hermione had had a hand in all of it, but never said anything. 

That one bloody year… he’d curse Draco on the spot if he’d ever suggested something like this again. For Harry, it had felt more like he was put to the acid test, this challenge the hardest in his life, worse than the three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. 

All of his friends had been sick of Harry’s continuous grousing at one point and expressed their annoyance vociferously. More than anybody, Harry had been frustrated because they had _moments_. The worst and best being the holiday with Teddy in Ireland, when they’d visited Dean and Seamus in County Kerry. At night, it had just been them, and both of them wanted more, craved to finally give in, but at the last minute, Draco had always stopped. One year as friends to get to know each other — that was the deal — and Draco would not relent. It had been seven days of pure temptation and tension. 

_Time._ The key to everything Draco and he had now was time. At this moment, it seemed to stand still. The entire room was quiet. There was nothing he could hear bar their breathing and the faint rustle of leaves that carried through the open window. Although it shouldn't be a surprise anymore, Harry couldn't still quite believe it. Unfathomable, the feeling of Draco’s silky hair underneath Harry's fingertips, and the fact that this beautiful man was here, at his house. 

Though the number of days Draco spent here instead of at the manor constantly grew, Harry dreaded every night without him in touching distance. Sure, Harry stayed in Wiltshire over night as well, but it wasn’t the same. Harry felt unwelcome in the old house. Not by Draco or his mother, but the house itself. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there. It had led to a lot of self-doubts because wizarding houses usually mirror their owners. 

When he was home alone, Harry’s mind would run wild. _Am I too much for Draco? Is he still unsure about our relationship? And if so, what can I do to make him believe?_

It wasn’t until he was safely in Draco’s arms again that his doubts would stop. 

Grimmauld Place was the complete opposite. As soon as Draco passed the threshold, it was almost as if the house sighed in relief and brightened up. One of his secret desires was to ask Draco to officially move in with him, but it was too soon. They had only been together for three months — actually seven, but Harry had spent four months in South America with Bill and his team after they had been a couple for not even a week. 

When Draco was at his house, Harry was happiest. He could feel his boyfriend everywhere, present in Harry's heart and surroundings. He was the person that brought out the best in Harry. Draco challenged him to become better, to go beyond. 

Harry couldn’t stop smiling because yes, he was truly happy. He felt it everywhere, in every inch of his body and mind. 

Draco was it for him. _The one._ The person other people spend their lives looking for. 

Every single day with Draco was… everything and more, cheesy as it sounded. Harry could practically hear Draco call him a sap and see him roll his eyes if Harry were to tell him as much to his face, but he knew Draco felt it, too. Maybe it was more wishful thinking on his part than actual reality, but he had to trust his gut on this. 

“Why, Potter? Why?” Draco mumbled against his skin, his voice slightly hoarse. 

“Merlin,” Harry yelped. “Don’t scare me like that.” 

“Go back to sleep, I beg you.”

“I can’t,” Harry sighed. 

Draco turned his head and looked up at him, his eyes still heavy-lidded. “What do I have to do? I’d really like to sleep some more, but I can practically hear you thinking.” 

“How about a kiss to take my mind off?”

“Hardly fair since you woke me up.” Draco moved higher until his head was right above Harry’s. “I expect to be repaid with a delicious breakfast in the morning.” 

Harry combed his fingers through Draco’s hair before saying, “I think that can be arranged.”

The kiss Draco planted on his lips was lazy but sweet nonetheless, though not enough for Harry. He could never stop at a single kiss, and Draco knew that. He’d complained about it often. 

Harry moved one hand to the back of Draco’s neck, trapping him. After a second of confused resistance, Draco relented and kissed him again. 

Unable to withhold himself, Harry rolled them over so that he was laying on top of Draco. He nudged with his nose against Draco’s before he closed his lips over Draco’s once more. His tongue ran lightly over them, demanding to be let in, and when Harry felt Draco’s tongue against his own, it felt like he was melting. He began to grind against Draco, his left hand running down Draco’s side. 

His mouth left Draco’s only to kiss his jaw. Then, his tongue began to trace lines over Draco's throat. Harry loved the stark contrast between his rough stubble and the soft skin near Draco’s collarbone. His already half-hard cock rubbed against his boyfriend’s. 

“I really like your idea, but I don't think I'm ready for another round."

Draco’s cock at least seemed to be very interested though. 

“I beg to differ.” Harry smiled at Draco, before planting another kiss to his lips. “Lie back and relax, and I’ll do all the work. How does that sound?”

“You’re insatiable,” Draco moaned when Harry licked over one nipple. 

Harry chuckled. “Only when it comes to you.”

* * *

It was a wonder Harry woke up pressed against another body. Normally, Draco was up first, going for a run, but he wasn't even making the slightest effort to leave the bed today. 

Harry pressed a light kiss to Draco's shoulder. "Good morning, love."

"What time is it?" His voice was muffled by the pillow. 

After casting a quick Tempus Charm, Harry replied, "Almost half nine."

"Then you better make some breakfast. Don't wake me until it's done."

"How about a shower first?" Harry asked while his hand travelled over Draco's chest. 

"No." Draco batted the hand away. "I know you won't keep your hands off me."

Harry laughed. "Guilty." 

When Draco turned his head to look at him, Harry snatched one last kiss before he got up. Or tried to… Sitting up was already difficult. Every single muscle ached, so he lay back down. "I think I'm gonna stay here a bit longer."

"Not a chance. It wasn't me who decided to ride me like a dragon at the crack of dawn." Draco rolled him over, almost throwing him out of bed, and Harry was convinced he had the meanest boyfriend in the world. The loud smack he felt on his arse as he tried to leave was clear evidence of that. 

“Go make breakfast, you tosser.”

He could still feel the slight sting of it while cutting various fruit into different shapes, placing them onto a plate. Harry continued, making eggs, bacon, pancakes, and squeezing some fresh orange juice for Draco. 

Rather than sending the tray upstairs by means of a Levitation Charm, he carried it all the way up himself, his body gloriously naked again after getting rid of his apron. Draco was already up, reading a potions book he must've brought to bed. He turned his head up when he heard the rattle of china and clicking of cutlery.

"I see you pressed some oranges for me."

Harry smiled at him and unfolded the legs of the tray, placing it across Draco's lap. He slid under the covers beside his lover and kissed him. With Draco distracted, Harry gently reached for the book, closing it before he put it on the bedside table. 

"You have the entire weekend to learn and read. I, on the other hand, won't see you for almost a week. So let's just eat, and then you can Apparate home."

They ate in silence for some time, then discussed the latest news and rumours, and before they knew it, the delicious food was gone. Following a long and extended cuddle session, they eventually made their way into the shower. 

Harry, honest to God, intended to keep his hands above the waistline. And he did. Washing Draco's hair and kissing his neck was hardly unusual. Okay, there might have been the slight issue with his stiff cock pressing into Draco's back, but he could easily deal with that after his boyfriend left. 

However, Draco saw it differently. It was he who'd pushed Harry against the cool tiles, then wrapped his long fingers around both their erect cocks. With their lips sealed together, he began his marvellous wristwork. Despite their multiple orgasms last night, neither of them took long to cover Draco's hand with white spurts. 

Out of the shower, they dried themselves off and finally got dressed. Regrettably, the time for goodbyes had arrived. 

"You really won't be able to see me over the weekend? Not even for a quick coffee and cake at Diagon?"

With an unhappy smile on his lips, Draco shook his head. "No, I have to learn, and well… we have to prepare the Manor for… You know what I mean. Thanks for not mentioning it, and for making sure my mind was... otherwise occupied for most of the night."

That was the moment Harry realised he’d forgotten a crucial event. "Of course. My pleasure.” He forced the words out as convincingly as he could muster while wracking his brain. He came up empty and felt a blush spreading across his face and ears. Harry was for sure the worst partner ever. 

"You forgot, right? You are a very bad liar, and your ears have this lovely shade of red whenever someone catches you lying. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse."

"I'm really sorry, Draco."

"Don't worry, really. I haven't mentioned it in months. My father is—"

"—Going to be released tomorrow," Harry finished the sentence. "Fuck.” Harry nervously ran his hands through his hair. “Are you sure I shouldn't come? I really want to be there. For you. And for you mother, I guess. But mostly for you. What I want to say—"

Being silenced by Draco's lips was probably the most effective method to stop him from rambling and also to make his knees go weak. Draco had pushed Harry into the wall and kissed him with those intoxicating lips. 

"Absolutely positive,” Draco said after they had finally broken apart. “The whole matter—" he gestures between them, "—needs to be brought up carefully; that's really not your strength. And besides, I'll mostly stay in my room, studying. And I really don’t need you around for that."

"All right. Just… stay safe."

A final kiss, and then Draco was gone. 

_In one week, it would all be over. In one week, they would be on holiday._


	2. Hiding in the Deep — the Perfect Enemy

_26 August - 28 August 2002_

Monday was finally here and Harry was glad to go to work. The last weekend had probably been the longest one yet. He’d spent the rest of Friday cleaning the entire house because he’d had too much time on his hands. He’d even considered dropping into the office, but then remembered showing up on his day off would also be weird, and his house could use a thorough scrub.

When he’d finished that, he’d sat down to do the last bit of paperwork from their last job because Bill had told him the Goblins needed it by Monday afternoon at the latest. Compared to his work as Auror, the amount of paperwork was less, but the Goblins were more thorough in checking everything he’d put in his reports and list of found objects and artefacts, and although they were sometimes a pain in the neck, Harry would choose this work over being an Auror again and again.

The work as Curse-Breaker was just the right amount of adventure and thrill he needed without constantly being in the papers for yet another arrest — most of which he hadn’t even made but had just been listed on the report. The Goblins preferred to not shout things from Gringotts’ rooftop.

Since he’d started to work there, Harry felt lighter. He’d left a part of his past behind, the job everyone wanted him to have and that he’d wanted so badly himself. Five years ago, when he’d had the career advice meeting with Professor McGonagall, Curse-Breaker hadn’t been on his list of future jobs, and he was still lucky to have this position, especially since he didn’t really have all the necessary qualifications. He’d only been hired thanks to Bill.

The only downside of resigning from his job was leaving Ron behind. Harry missed working with him, but he knew that Ron was in his element. He was one of the best interrogators the Aurors ever had. Every interrogation Harry had witnessed was simply amazing. Unlike his normal self, Ron had the best poker face similar to when he played chess. He was focused and nothing distracted him. He picked up the smallest of hints, every twitch of the eye, when somebody corrected themselves, and listened closely. Sometimes he delivered a final strike to break them, at other times he’d just walked out and delivered the final clues to put the puzzle together.

Being an Auror suited Ron perfectly, and Harry thought that Curse-Breaker was the right job for him.

Casting a quick Tempus, Harry suddenly realised he was way too early, and he also heard his stomach rumble. So he decided to treat himself with a coffee from Draco’s and his favourite shop, and, if he was lucky, with some of those pumpkin pie croissants. Just the thought of them made his mouth water. He deserved a treat after the weekend he’d been through, Saturday at Andromeda’s and Sunday at the Burrow.

Visiting Teddy and Andromeda on Saturday didn’t take his mind off at all. Teddy was very sleepy that day, and when they‘d put him down for his nap, both he and Andromeda had sat in the living room, not really sure what to say or do. Nervously, Harry had glanced at the old grandfather clock, and the closer the time advanced to 2 pm, the more he felt the tension in his body rise.

Having connections in the Ministry was as much a blessing as it was a curse. He knew that at exactly 2 pm on Saturday, Lucius would take the Portkey to the manor, accompanied by Seamus and one other Auror. When the trio would reach their destination, one of them would put the magically enchanted ankle monitor in place so Lucius couldn’t leave the house by means of magic.

Neither Andromeda nor he liked the idea of Lucius being back in their sister’s or boyfriend’s life.

That day the Floo had chimed twice, and both times, they’d been hoping for news, but the first time it had been Molly, asking if Andromeda and Teddy would eat lunch at the Burrow the next day. The other time had caught them both off guard because the person on the other end had been a reporter from the Daily Prophet. They wanted a little quote for the article about Lucius’ release. Harry had been furious because how dare they contact his godson and Andromeda. When Andromeda had refused to comment and ended the call, Harry added another layer of protection to the existing wards and made a note to ask Ron to find out how they’d found them.

At home, Harry’s desperate need for news had reached his limit and he called Seamus, trying to get anything out of him. Lacking Ron’s finesse for obtaining information, Harry had gloriously failed. He’d covered his tracks though by promising Seamus, and also Dean because they were glued together at the hip, dinner and drinks at the pub in two weeks. At his expense, of course.

The low point of his mood had been reached on Sunday. After almost three days without a single word from Draco, Harry felt tired, anxious, and unbalanced. Something was off, not quite right, he was sure of it. Almost as bad as sixth year when he was convinced Draco was up to something, but no-one believed him. He asked Andromeda, Ron, and also Pansy about news, repeatedly. It had gotten so far that Pansy of all people took him aside and gave him a fucking lecture.

With his freshly bought food and drink, Harry sat down on a bench in front of the coffee shop. The first bite into his croissant was heavenly, and the first sip of his mocha lifted his spirits. He’d made through three days, the next ones would be a piece of cake. Work would keep him busy, and if he was lucky even take him out of England for a day or so.

So going to work today had been better than his weekend. The mocha and croissant both tasted amazing and were the perfect breakfast combo, filling his stomach and waking him up. They had no assignments for this week, but he hoped for something that would keep him busy until Thursday, maybe even take him out of London.

After finishing his lovely breakfast combo, Harry walked up Diagon Alley towards the office.

His hand was reaching for the door when Bill grinned wildly at him. Since he’d been attacked by Fenrir, there was something slightly terrifying about his grin. His canines were slightly larger than before and almost glistening in the current light.

“Uhm…. hi, Bill,” Harry stammered, still taken aback by his ambush.

“Good morning, Harry.” Bill continued grinning and that’s when Harry knew.

“We got a new case, right? What is it? Where are we going?”

“I’m gonna brief you when you’re back, but we need supplies first. Be back in an hour.” Bill handed Harry a shopping list, a bag full of money, including Muggle money, and sent him on his way.

It had sort of become Harry’s responsibility, mostly because he’d volunteered to buy potions whenever they were needed — not because a certain blond twit worked there, absolutely not — and since he was already out, he could also get what else they needed. Besides Harry’s eagerness to ~~see Draco~~ buy potions, he was also best with Muggle money and finding his way around the shops.

Harry checked the list on his way to the Leaky Cauldron, saw they only were in need of a couple of items, and decided the nearby Sainsbury’s would work just fine. It might be possible that he bought some Crunchies on the Goblin’s bill because he didn’t have any Muggle currency with him, but they looked too good to just leave behind. It’s not like anybody would ever know.

The next stop was J. Pippin’s — the apothecary Draco worked at. Harry quickly opened the door because Diagon Alley was becoming more crowded with students shopping for Hogwarts supplies, and he really didn’t give out autographs or pose for photos when he was working.

The high chime of the doorbell triggered an almost Pavlovian response. For more than 18 months now, this sound signalled Draco’s presence. His heart beat so hard in his chest, he was sure it was making an attempt to break free. His mouth was dry and overall, he felt giddy and happy, unable to keep a smile off his face. His brain knew very well Draco wouldn’t be here, or if he was he wouldn’t be standing behind the till, but his body had apparently not gotten the message.

He closed his eyes for a moment, willing his body to relax. _One. Two. Three._

Upon opening them again, he made his way towards the counter. There was a young man greeting — or rather gaping at — him when Harry was standing in front of him. Judging by his youthful appearance, he’d probably just finished Hogwarts and was now beginning his apprenticeship.

“Hello. I’d like to buy the following,” Harry spoke to break the ice and get him back to reality. He pointed to the list and tried to put the list on the counter, but the new apprentice was too eager and practically ripped it from his hands, tearing it in half.

 _Sweet Jesus, not one of those._ Harry tried his best to keep his eye roll to a minimum as he fixed the sheet.

“I’m so sorry Mr Potter, Sir,” he uttered, his entire face crimson from embarrassment.

Unfortunately, it didn’t end there. The boy constantly stumbled over his own feet more than once while trying to collect everything on the list, broke three vials, and ran into different shelves. On top of that, he kept on apologising for everything.

How much he would give for Draco assisting him today. Three nights without him left Harry slightly empty, like something important had been there was now missing. Only three more nights before he'd hold him in his arms once more, and he was determined to not let him go again.

Soon, everybody, the entire Wizarding community, will know, too. Draco had promised him they’d go public once his apprenticeship was over and his head would be in the right space for dealing with the bullshit the Prophet and other magazines and newspapers would write, which they certainly would. They’d seen what had happened last year when they became ‘best friends’.

And boy was Harry ready to proclaim to the world that he was taken. Tell all the fuckers at the Prophet to stick their shaming articles up their arses because no matter what they would write, no matter how much they tried to pull Draco’s name through the mud and make him look like a villain, Harry wouldn’t leave him. Nothing could separate them.

Harry looked over to the boy again, seeing him stumble into a display, he sighed heavily. It felt like he’d spent ages in here, and his annoyance grew the longer he stood in front of the counter waiting for his order. He took his wand into his hand to cast a quick Tempus Charm Seeing that he’d already spent over twenty minutes in here without having a bag filled with potions and other things they’d need on their mission, he grabbed the list from his hands.

Due to his frequent visits, he could find his way through the shop while being blindfolded. It took him less than five minutes to locate everything, pay and be out of here.

There was one last stop on his list — Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. While sprinting to the store, Harry tried to memorise everything on it. They only needed minor things like Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Bruise Removal Paste. Storming into the store, he quickly grabbed a couple of each item on the list and slammed them onto the counter, thankfully not triggering the Darkness Powder.

“Hello, Harry. You’re in a mood,” George said.

“And in a hurry.”

“Okayyy.” He dragged out the word while scanning his face.

Harry’s ire must’ve been visible on his face because George didn’t try to play any tricks on him which Harry was grateful for.

“Here.” George handed him a small paper bag. “I’m gonna add the sum to the monthly bill.”

“Thanks George, and sorry again,” Harry spoke while making his exit.

* * *

A magical passage tomb in Germany was their destination, and though the job was easy enough, they had to be careful with their magic. The megaliths were thousands of years old. Messing with them too much might cause them to collapse and trap them in there. They couldn’t just use Bombarda either to blast them into pieces because there might be Muggles in the nearby areas and dealing with Obliviators of a foreign country and the paperwork was the worst.

This was one of the major differences between being an Auror and a Curse-Breaker. Since the Auror department was part of the Ministry — its pride and joy post-war — Aurors could more or less do what they wanted, even abroad, as long as they were bringing the results. In the first months after the war, in particular, the Ministry cared more about arresting the Death Eaters that had escaped justice than strictly enforcing the Statute of Secrecy.

Curse-Breakers in England, on the other hand, were employed by Gringotts, and they, therefore, needed to tread more carefully. Harry didn’t mind that at all. In fact, this line of work helped him a lot to focus his magic and not just let it run wild. Every curse, every job was different. A new challenge.

Bill estimated two days for the whole job, but after the first, it was clear that they might need another because the gold and other treasures were more heavily warded and protected than anticipated. In the end, they returned to England at midday on Wednesday.

As soon as he entered Grimmauld Place, Harry wasted no time. He was buzzing with excitement, practically jumping up the stairs to his bedroom and began to pack.

At the crack of dawn, he’d go to the manor, and Harry wanted to make sure everything was perfect. For the first time in his life, he made a list, an _actual_ list. He even called Hermione in between to make sure he thought of _everything_.

She came over after her shift, and the two of them ran up and down the stairs of Grimmauld Place, made a little shopping trip to Muggle London and Diagon Alley and lastly the Ministry to pick up something silly, but essential for the trip. With every item on the list checked as well as the bags being packed, they Apparated to Ron and Hermione’s flat for dinner.

Ron had discovered his hidden talent for cooking when he'd moved in with Hermione. It paired well with his love for food in general and his inner Gryffindor even made him try new things every now and then. Tonight though he served a lovely Cottage Pie.

There were only a few things in Harry's life that were better than spending the night with his two best friends drinking beer and eating delicious home-cooked food.

“Are you excited about tomorrow?” Ron asked before he put a bit of potato in her mouth.

Harry exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, and then she answered instead of Harry.  
“You won’t believe what I’m telling you now. Mr-I’m-improvising-as-I-go took a leaf from my book and made a list.”

“No way!” Ron exclaimed, torn between shock and amusement. “I think you owe Malfoy a fruit basket or whatever the git likes. He’d managed to get Harry to do something you haven’t managed in years.”

“So to answer your question, Ronald, I think Harry is nervous but prepared as much as he can be.”

Harry felt a blush spreading on his face, and started picking the label of his bottle, not looking up to meet Ron’s eyes.

“You two are disgustingly in love. But I’m happy for you, Harry. If he’s what you want, then be a sap. You had to deal with—”

Suddenly, Harry’s wand vibrated where he’d put it on the table, alarming him that someone unknown was trying to Floo call his house. All three of them stared transfixed at the Holly wand, Hermione with a very sceptical look on her face.

The vibrations stopped, but then started once more. It happened over and over until Harry got seriously worried.

It couldn’t be Draco, he would be let through. He took the wand into his hand, felt the vibrations spreading out through his body. His grip tightened and while grew anxious the longer the wand pulsated in his hand.

_What if it was about Draco? Or Teddy? Maybe St Mungo’s tried to get through. What if…_

The same worry he felt was prominent on his friends’ faces. Ron got up to collect Harry’s things, putting them into the small shoulder bag he’d brought. Hermione put her hand on Harry’s arm, trying to steady him. Telling them that whatever it was, they’d be here for him.

She was interrupted by the chirming of their own fireplace. The sound carried through the room, nobody moved. It was like they’d been hit by a Stupefy.

“Answer it!” Harry barked suddenly, running his hands nervously through his hair.

Hermione walked from their dining table to the fireplace. She constantly looked over his shoulder to check on Harry.

“Hello,” Hermione greeted whoever it was.

The face appearing in the flames was unfamiliar. Harry had never seen the man in his life.

_That’s not a good sign._

“I’m so sorry, Ms Granger, to disturb you this late.”

He carried on, telling them he was a reporter from the Daily Prophet, asking for a quote for tomorrow’s issue. Polite as always, Hermione asked for more details. She was never one to comment on a topic without having all the facts. Harry’s heart skipped a beat or two when the reporter spoke Draco’s name. He then practically sprang from his seat at the table, running to the fireplace.

The reporter appeared to be pleasantly surprised by Harry’s sudden presence. His voice was instantly an octave higher. “Oh Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise. We tried to call you as well, but your Floo was closed.”

“You mentioned Draco. What’s the article about? Can you please elaborate?” Hermione put on a smile, but Harry could see that she was concerned.

“The wedding, of course.”

“WEDDING?” yelled the trio in unison.

“What wedding are you talking about?” Hermione repeated in a calmer, but higher pitched voice than usual.

“The upcoming Malfoy-Greengrass wedding, of course.”

"The what?" Ron called from behind Harry.

"Their engagement was announced in our paper today. Seeing as you're all so close to the groom-to-be, I assume you already knew all about the secret relationship the rest of wizarding Britain are all dying to know all about. I reckon you'll be the best man? Am I correct, Mr Potter?"

Perplexed, uncomprehending, Harry blinked a couple of times. When the words had finally sunken in, he started to laugh.

_Best Man? Secret relationship? Draco marrying a woman? Hilarious._

Draco was as gay as they came, and after the war, Harry had realised that he was, too. This must be the best prank George had recently pulled on him, probably a little payback for the way he’d behaved a couple of days ago. Ron’s older brother made it his mission to tease Draco about when he was finally going to produce an heir and Harry about… basically everything. This would also explain the calls to his house first, though he’d never thought he’d be _that_ persistent.

“Whoever told you this?” Ron yelled.

“The families of both bride and groom.” The reporter frowned at them, unable to tell who’d asked before he resumed his questions. “Now,” he clapped his hands together, “what can you tell us about the happy couple? Our readers are dying to know everything."

Harry, unable to hold back longer, was now screaming with laughter. The voice had almost the same intonation as Rita Skeeter. That was cherry on top of everything. Harry barely registered Ron making his way over to them, cancelling the call. Meanwhile, Hermione ran to the kitchen counter where today’s issue lay, still bound with a string.

“Ron, tell George that this made my day. Honestly. I haven’t laughed like this in ages.” After wiping his tears away, Harry looked at his friends to find Hermione sitting at the dining table, scanning the newspaper, turning from page to page. Ron was standing behind her.

Ron tapped on the paper and looked at his girlfriend. The look they exchanged caused Harry to knit his eyebrows. Hermione was in shock, and Ron was fuming. His face was red with anger, his hands balled into fists.

“What is it?” Harry asked bemused, the last chuckles falling from his mouth.

Hermione didn’t reply to his question, but rather looked up at Ron, gasping. “It can’t be…”

“That fucker.” Ron’s voice was low and sounded nothing like his friend. It reminded him somewhat of Ron at work, but only slightly.

Both of them turned towards him. Hermione's face wore the same expression of concern that it always did every time something went terribly wrong in Harry's life. So basically their entire time at Hogwarts. Ron, however, scared him. He hadn’t seen his friend so angry in his entire life. Only the fact that Hermione had hold of his wand by now held him back from whatever he wanted to do. Ron would never mess with her.

Neither of them said anything else. Harry swallowed hard as he got up from the carpet and walked over to them. It felt very much like he was on his way to the gallows.

“It’s better if you sit down.” The smile on Hermione’s face was strained.

Ron turned away from the table, running his fingers over his forehead.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to decipher the glances Hermione threw her boyfriend. She seemed to be torn between helping Harry and calming Ron down.

The newspaper was still on the table, and it looked completely normal. There was nothing out of the ordinary. There was neither a big picture of Draco nor a sensational headline. In fact, it was the personal columns. Not a section Hermione frequented often.

Harry turned the newspaper around, searching for Draco’s name. He totally blanked on where he was supposed to be looking. His eyes roamed over the double-page over and over, not seeing his name. Thinking that he was probably looking at the wrong page, he paged up, but there were only advertisements for various businesses.

“Hermione, I—” He cut off because her one hand was on his now, the other hand on the newspaper, her index finger pointing at the announcement in question.

Harry felt sick just reading the headline but compelled himself to continue reading. With every word he read, his eyes began to water up. By the end, a single tear ran over Harry’s cheek, leaving a wet trail in its wake as it continued its journey over Harry’s face, eventually falling onto the news page.

“It can’t be true.”

“Harry, I—”

“No Hermione. This is a scam. It can’t be true. It just can’t. Draco wouldn’t… He’d never… I need to go. ”

Ron turned around. “We’re coming with you,” he commanded.

“No!” Harry protested.

“We’re not leaving you alone. We’re coming with you and that’s the last word.”

“No!” Harry felt the anger rising in his body. This was his fucking business, not theirs.

He collected his bag and tore the announcement from the newspaper. The scrap was crumpled when Harry balled his hand to a fist. Then, he ripped the door open and fled the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> Forthcoming Marriages  
> **
> 
> D.L. Malfoy and A. Greengrass  
> The engagement is announced between Draco Lucius, son of Narcissa Malfoy (neé Black) and Lucius Abraxas Malfoy of Wiltshire, and Astoria, youngest daughter of Aveline Greengrass (neé Burke) and Eugenius Greengrass of Warwickshire.


	3. Is It Fun to Watch Me Burn?

_29 August 2002_

The green grass and trees were still covered in grey morning mist, the sky illuminated in colours ranging from deep red to light orange. Slowly but surely the sun was rising at the horizon clearing away the fog and warming up the air. There were no clouds disrupting the view. It was to be one of the loveliest summer days and would have been the perfect day to start their first holiday as a couple. 

Harry watched the entire scene unfold in front of him, standing in front of the iron gates of Malfoy Manor and wearing the forest green hoodie Draco had gotten him for his last birthday. Instead of having a backpack on his shoulders, there was only his wand gripped tightly in his right hand. 

The wards prevented anybody who wasn’t considered family from entering Malfoy Manor by Floo or Apparition. This was the last sign he needed. 

Harry felt every inch, every molecule of the magic protecting the manor from intruders. A century or more of spells and incantations. 

Not for much longer. 

As he would’ve done when working a job with Bill, Harry started by casting a couple of charms aiding in the detection of old magic. They would reveal partly, if not entirely, how generations of Malfoys had their home protected against trespassers. 

He held in for one more minute, his hand moving inside the front pocket of his hoodie to feel the object inside. A reminder of what should’ve been. 

Then he began. Brutal, raw and destructive. Harry slowly broke through all of the defences, layer by layer, letting his magic run wild, not holding back because there was simply no reason for it. Even if Muggles came his way, he'd deal with the Ministry later. 

An entire night he’d given Draco, had sent him owls and Patronuses, and he had even tried to Floo call him. All to no avail. His time for explanations was up. 

The images from last night cut deeper and deeper in his heart, leaving no room for emotions other than anger and hurt. His heart was wrecked, completely destroyed by Draco. 

_I reckon you'll be the best man? Am I correct, Mr Potter?_ He could still hear the words spoken by the reporter. He would never know what he had done. This man had brought Harry the worst news, destroyed all of Harry’s hopes and dreams. Blind as he was, Harry had thought it was one of George's pranks, but it was real. Fool of the century, the Chosen Idiot, that's what he really was. Draco — the person Harry wanted to be with for all eternity — had deceived him. 

_It must feel good, right? To have so much power, Draco, to be the one in control. Was it fun to play me like a fiddle? Did you have a good laugh with your father? Did you finally make him proud?_ The thoughts fuelled his anger, making his magic stronger, more calamitous. 

Even now, Harry didn't understand why. Maybe he'd never understand. It all seemed real, genuine, but it was a lie. The Dark Lord hadn't broken him, but Draco Lucius Malfoy had.

The earth underneath is feet cracked, he sunk an inch deeper into the ground, but Harry didn't stop; he hit the manor with all his power, with every spell he knew and had learned from Bill and in his own research for missions. Shreds of the wards gradually broke away and fell like leaves onto the ground before dissolving entirely. 

Harry was out for blood. Nothing and nobody — not even these wards, consisting of old magic — would stop him. 

One final spell and one of the heavy metal gates was blown from its hinges and created a way inside. In quick, heavy steps, he walked the path up to the manor, igniting some hedges before he made short shrift of the thick front doors, stepping inside the house to find him. 

He could feel Draco’s magic. In comparison to his own, it was weak, almost pathetic, but Draco didn’t need magic to bring the most powerful wizards to their knees. Manipulations and deception were more his style. Slytherin to the core. 

Every item Harry saw on his way to Draco was blasted away, torn into pieces. Pure destruction. 

When Harry finally laid eyes on him, he stopped in his tracks. It was such a fitting image, Draco standing behind the bannisters on the first floor, one hand loosely on the wood. He towered over him, beautiful and cool as always. Not one single emotion showed on his face. How much Harry wished he’d look more like in their sixth year when he’d cried in a bathroom. Instead, he reeked of power and authority. 

The distance between them was closed in no time, but shortly before Harry reached Draco, he threw his wand aside, balling both now empty hands into fists. “Tell me Draco, did you like it?” Harry said as he threw the first punch, the fist landing hard on Draco’s face. “Did you like making me look like a fool?” The second strike went to his stomach.

“I think I liked you most on your knees in front of me, Potter.” 

When he smiled, Harry could see blood running from his lips. Harry knew them like he knew Draco’s entire body — intimately — the same way Draco knew his. He felt sick, his chest tightened. Draco had stripped him bare and torn him wide open to rip his heart out. Harry thought of all these nights they’d spent together, talking about their past. How much of it was deceit? Did Draco ever tell him the truth? He remembered how those long fingers felt on his skin, in his hair, about their soft touch when they comforted him. 

Punch after punch landed on the other man’s body. Bruises in different colours began to blossom on the pale skin. With every single one, he wanted to forget, wanted to inflict pain, and make Draco feel the same amount of pain he had inflicted. Harry felt bones cracking underneath his fists, saw skin breaking open and blood down the normally flawless pale skin. Strands of white-blond hair were coloured crimson where they were sticking to Draco’s face. Blood soaked the heavy fabric of the dark blue robes, drops of red stained the carpet. 

It was not enough.

"Defend yourself," Harry ordered, but Draco's arms still hung loosely at his sides, making no move towards Harry. 

It made Harry even angrier, the next strikes landing even harder on the slim body. On his solar plexus, his ribs. Draco was staggering backwards the more Harry’s fists hit him, and when Harry landed a heavy punch on his temple, he hit the cold stone floor near the wall, where the thick carpet didn’t cover it. 

“You’re scum. I wish I’d sent you to rot in Azkaban like your father.”

It was the last outcry of anger before it subsided slowly into despair. Harry couldn’t though… He couldn’t break down in front of Draco. It would give him the upper hand once again. Harry felt betrayed, used. It was like history was repeating itself. He had been used his entire life, played by the rules of others, had been their marionette. At first, it had been Dumbledore, then the Ministry, and now the man he loved with all his heart. All these lies spoken to his face. The betrayal. 

It was supposed to be different with them; they had made promises to always be honest, sworn to have each other's back no matter what. 

“Get back up, you coward.” Harry could hear his own voice crack. He felt the hot tears running down his face as he landed on his knees next to Draco’s body.

“I believe that’s enough,” came Narcissa’s voice from behind. 

Harry heard the footsteps coming closer but stayed where he was, not moving an inch. His stare was focused on the grey stone floor, tears turning it darker everywhere they landed. Some mixed with the blood; Harry was unable to tell if it was Draco’s or his own, dripping down from his knuckles. 

The footsteps came to a halt close to him. The first crackle of magic was in the air. Harry had no idea what it was, but his body didn’t return to battle mode. On the contrary, it felt calming? 

Harry registered the clacking of Narcissa’s shoes on the stone floor again a moment before the tip of her wand appeared in his vantage point. The swelling on his hands began to disappear, the open skin knitted itself back together and the blood vanished. There was a short stab of pain in his right hand, but then it all felt better. Healed. 

The magic — Narcissa’s magic — spread through his body. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of hostility or resentment. Harry felt more at peace, and almost comforted? A warmth ran from his core to every part of his body similar to the way he’d felt after drinking Calming Draught. 

A hand on his back stroked up and down a few times. Then it was gone, only the remnants of Narcissa’s magic prickled on his skin. She then turned around to Draco. In the corner of his eyes, he saw her wand moving over Draco’s body, saw different coloured sparks of light erupting from the tip. Draco remained immobile on the cold stone floor. 

As Narcissa moved to examine her son more carefully, Harry turned away from them, impossible to predict his own reactions if he were to actually see Draco’s face. 

Too much. It was all too much. Love. Care. Comfort. 

Remaining here any longer was pure, personal torture. After wiping fresh tears on his face with the hem of his shirt, he stood up and walked down the corridor, picking up his wand on the way. 

Just before exiting the Malfoy Manor through the front, Harry reached inside his front pocket, pulled the object out and placed it on the ground. He didn’t need it anymore. Ever.


	4. A Mother's Love, Close Enough to Touch

_24\. August 2006_

The following day, on the 30 August 2002, Harry had left the country. He couldn't stand being in England any longer or anywhere where the Prophet or any other newspaper or magazine could contact him without difficulty. Where he could possibly encounter more pictures of Draco and his future bride smiling happily at each other, or maybe even the pair itself. Harry simply couldn’t stomach it. 

When he’d finally returned to his house that day and changed out of the dirty, blood-stained clothes before sitting down in the drawing room to drink his body weight in whiskey, Bill had Firecalled. It seemed to have been fate. He’d asked if Harry would be willing to go back to South America, to help the same person they’d assisted last time. 

Since Fleur had been pregnant again, this was supposed to be Bill’s last job before his second child would be born. In the end, he couldn’t come because his wife had fallen ill over night. So, it had been just Harry who’d taken the Portkey to Lima. The job there was supposed to take three weeks, but Harry simply hadn’t returned to England. It had felt good to be away from it all, to be out of the public eye, and most of all, to be far far away from Draco. 

It had come at a high cost, of course, because he’d abandoned his friends and most of all his godson — Andromeda had been extremely pissed at him for dodging his responsibilities like that. Harry had stayed in Peru without telling them or anybody for that matter. He had received his first letter from Andromeda who’d written to him after he’d been gone for three months. By this time, Harry had travelled south to Chile to take his third job. Making amends to a four-year-old had been easy, but Andromeda had rightfully been cross with him for quite some time. 

At first, Harry had loved being a Curse-breaker on another continent where the rules were less strict. The pay could’ve been better, but Harry had never done it for the money. He’d plenty of that. Going from place to place, though, and from job to job had been just what he needed. His mind had been too busy to think about anything but work, and he’d fallen into bed entirely exhausted on most nights. Seeing lots of cities in South America had been another perk, compensating the years without a proper vacation during his youth. No press, no Ministry of Magic. And above all, nobody who knew him for anything but his work. It seemed like paradise — for roughly eight months. 

The downside of living here was that he needed proper connections to get new jobs, and that he'd be on call so to speak. Harry never had a proper boss — lack of a proper hierarchy — or teammates he knew. Here, it was every Curse-Breaker for themselves. They had to get their own potions and gear. 

If he was lucky, some had been on two, maybe three jobs with him. The frequent changes had made it difficult for him, especially because he could never build proper friendships. Going back to England had not been an option at that time. It had simply been too soon. The wounds had still been fresh and too deep for Harry to even consider it. 

Life on the road had ended as soon Harry set foot on Tierra del Fuego after a job. It had simply felt right to be here. Some spots were still the same as thousands of years ago, not reshaped, concreted or tarred by humankind. Harry could breathe for the first time in years and enjoy the breathtaking beauty of this place. For the first time in so long, Harry felt welcome and at home. 

Now, Harry lived in the outskirts of Ushuaia, a city that literally advertised to be _el fin del mundo_ — the end of the world. 

The house he lived in with his roommate Alejandro, he’d built himself with a little aid of magic here and there, mostly to cut the trees and get the heavy parts safely to their destination. The building itself had all been done by hand. With the help of his roommate, every nail and tile had been put in. Harry only used magic to ensure the wood, and other building materials stayed dry as well as hidden from local authorities, and so that they could work on the house even when it poured down. He later did the same for other houses in the area. 

The new district, where Harry and all these other people lived in, had one major problem: the land they’d built the houses, playgrounds and little shops on officially belonged to nobody. They had simply taken it when the local government had failed or had reassigned other land to big companies. Naturally, that caused some problems with local authorities because they inhabited no man’s land, but whatever the struggles had been, at the end of the day they had always won because their community was strong. 

Everybody had each other’s back, no matter if they were magical or not. When Harry had come back to South America in late August 2002, he couldn’t imagine it. It had seemed impossible, but here he had living proof it could work. In _Armonía_ — the name they’d settled on for this wild community — wizards and Muggles lived side by side, helping one another wherever they could. Harry, for example, offered English lessons for children and adults in the afternoon and evening after coming home from his day job. In exchange, they helped him to improve his Spanish. 

The district grew a little with time. Some of the newer settlers were Muggle families with magical children, and Harry, as well as all the others here, helped them to understand that that was nothing to be afraid of. It was just a part of who they were. 

It had been bumpy at first, but after over three years here, they all worked together seamlessly. Like a well-oiled machine. 

Even Teddy enjoyed it whenever he came to stay, usually helping to look after the little ones and keeping them entertained while their parents ran some errands or worked later than expected. Teddy spent his year half here, usually during autumn and winter in Europe — Christmas being the exception every other year — and the other half he lived in England. There was even another Metamorphmagus, a little girl of three, and these two had the most fun together, constantly trying to out-do each other. 

Though the witches and wizards were allowed to use magic whenever, all residents had mutually decided to make the entire area a No-Apparition zone, setting up wards to prevent any unannounced arrivals or departures. Mostly because this way nobody could just drop by. There was no Floo system in place, hence the only proper way in and out was the road leading from the city to the district. 

Everybody who worked in the city was compelled to walk or drive down this unpaved street to get to their workplaces. No brooms or magical ways of transportation. 

Harry himself liked to walk to his workplace at the tourism centre. The office was located at the harbour in the middle of the city. He could watch the boats arrive and depart or go outside for a bit when nobody was there. Sometimes, he even went on tours with tourist groups to places he hadn’t been yet or he liked very much, on occasions he even was their tour guide. 

On this Thursday, it had rained cats and dogs since the early hours, so for safety reasons Harry had told the others that no English class would take place today. All tours had been cancelled as well, but Harry had stayed in the office in case some new arrivals needed help. 

His feet got trapped in the muddy ground when he walked from his workplace up the road leading to Armonía. Every spell had failed; his shoes clung to the dirt like the portrait of Sirius’ mother to the wall at Grimmauld Place. It had taken him almost four times as long as it usually did to arrive at his house.

Leaving his soiled boots outside on the porch, he made his way inside and dried his clothes with a flick of his wand. 

“ _¿Cómo estás, Harry?_ ” Alejandro greeted him, but Harry wasn’t in a real mood to talk or do anything. 

He simply waved at him before he — without another word — opened the door to his room. The walk up here had drained him of all his energy, and all Harry wanted to do was to crawl in his bed and sleep for ten hours straight. 

Before he could step in though, his roommate stopped him by speaking once again. _“Te ha llegado una carta esta mañana.”_

With a very audible sigh, Harry turned around, seeing an envelope in Alejandro’s hand. From what he could see the person who had sent it to him had elegant handwriting. His roommate stepped closer, pressing the letter into his chest. _“Vía búho.”_

“Thanks, mate,” Harry said, knowing that only another witch or wizard could be the sender, and then he finally went inside his room, shutting the wooden door behind himself. 

After letting out a heavy breath, Harry leaned against the door to inspect the letter better because he had a really bad feeling about it. The script used to write his address was so similar to another he’d known quite well. The handwriting of the other person, he’d seen so much of for years and years that it had become impossible to forget. Even after all this time. 

The envelope itself was slightly dirty and a bit battered and also very thick. From what he could assess without opening it, the contents were intact. Harry walked over to his desk by the window and put the letter on it before changing from the jeans he was wearing to a pair of comfortable jogger bottoms. 

Standing in the middle of the room, he ran a hand through his hair, unsure what to do. He hadn’t checked the sender’s name and address yet — on purpose — and he was unsure how to proceed. His head was aching, his entire body was tired. Every inch of his body told him to go to bed, but he was curious as to what was written on the parchment inside the envelope. 

In three quick steps, he sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking over to the desk to his left. Just the mere knowledge it was there made Harry grip the roots of his hair, pulling hard. 

No. He needed to sleep. Whatever was written in that letter could wait until tomorrow. So could a much-needed shower. 

Harry took his glasses off, putting them as well as his wand on the same desk as the letter before he pulled back the covers and slipped underneath them. His eyes fell shut as soon as his head hit the pillow. He lay there motionless and waited for sleep to come. 

And waited…

And waited… 

His head wouldn’t shut up. He knew neither Hermione, Ron, Andromeda, or any of the usual suspects had sent him this letter. There was only one person and Harry’s mind kept on spinning and coming up with ideas after ideas as to why this person would contact him. 

“Maybe turning away from the desk would help?” Harry told himself, trying to be louder than the thoughts in his head.

He did turn around and felt a little calmer — for about two minutes. Harry kept on tossing and turning until he was all sweaty. His heart raced in his chest, and his sodding brain wouldn’t stop thinking and making him anxious. 

His last try was to get some sleep was to get a little teddy his godson had given him when he’d first gone back to England after staying here for six months. Harry would never forget. 

He knew it was pathetic for a grown man to cuddle a stuffed animal, but here he was opening the closet behind the door to retrieve the soft, fluffy goodness Teddy had given him before returning to his bed. The bear usually helped to soothe his nerves. Harry held it close to his chest, inhaling Teddy’s scent and pulled the covers up to his ears. 

No avail. Even now he was itchy, a nervous wreck whose mind kept swirling around the content of that bloody envelope and its sender. 

Hitting his head against the pillow and sighing, Harry reached for his wand and glasses on his desk and then cast a Lumos. After sitting up, leaning against the head of his bed, he gripped the envelope and placed his wand on the desk so he could see everything. Harry pulled his legs up and put the teddy bear on his chest. Then, only then, did he turn around the envelope. 

The sender was — Harry blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining things — Narcissa Malfoy. Inhaling a deep breath, Harry broke the wax seal and pulled out the sheets of parchment. They were thin, so thin they would easily be mistaken for paper, and some parts were shiny because the parchment had been polished thoroughly. 

He unfolded the sheets and began to read.

_Malfoy Manor, 13th August 2006_

_Dear Harry,_

_First of all, I'm glad that this letter has reached you and that you have at least opened it and read this far, and not set it aflame — at least not yet. I don't take any of it for granted because it has been so long since we've talked to one another and our last meeting had been all but pleasurable.  
You might ask yourself why I'm writing to you after all these years of no contact, and why I've chosen to write to you. What I would like to offer is an explanation. Well, maybe I should not call it that, rather the full story of how everything happened. To be completely honest with you, it’s not my story to tell, and it certainly doesn’t feel right, but I, as a mother, know it's a necessity. You of all people in this world know my son has a very complicated relationship with feelings and emotions, and after all that has passed between the two of you, he would never reach out. And before you doubt my words, I wholeheartedly believe that you understand my son completely, more than anyone else in this world ever will._

Harry paused for a moment before turning the sheet around. 

_It’s possible that I need this letter more than you do because it is cathartic to finally be able to talk about these events, to finally write this off my chest. I am fully aware though it will never give me a clear conscience. I have failed my son, I have failed you in so many ways possible.  
That was rather a long prologue, but if you were not aware before, you certainly know by now why I have written to you. The problem is always where to begin the story because it’s so complicated and entangled in my own. It causes me trouble to make it comprehensible for someone who was not raised the way Draco and I were.  
I suppose I will start at the very beginning. It is common — or was — among purebloods to make marital contracts for their children. The contract for my son and his designated bride was signed when Draco was eight and Astoria was six. She had just shown the first signs of magic — a fact important for our circles. Both families involved were very highly esteemed and respected, and even though Astoria had been selected as Draco's bride when she had been only two, Lucius, as the head of the family, would never have tied Draco to a Squib. The contract was signed by the heads of houses in the presence of their wives._

Panting heavily after finishing the first sheet of parchment, Harry set the letter aside and took his wand to make his way to the kitchen in order to pour himself a glass of water. He gulped it down and put his glass in the sink and leaned against it. He couldn’t see his room from here, but just the thought of going back seemed impossible. 

_It’s just a letter._ Harry repeated it like a mantra in his head, trying to convince himself it was true, though he knew deep down that those pages filled with black ink would change everything, would shed new light on something that had broken him, would maybe make him regret all he’d done or fuel his past anger. He’d just put himself back together, found a new life and home, but the past had caught up to him. What he should do is to light the letter up, watch the parchment crumple before it would turn to ashes. Pretend Narcissa hadn’t sent it to him and continue living without knowing. 

The way back to his room seemed endless and short at the same time. The handle of his door wouldn’t work when he tried it the first three times because his hand felt all wobbly, similar to the way it had done in second year when all the bones had been gone. When it finally did, Harry went in quickly and closed the door behind himself, resting his head against the wood. 

The decision he’d make in the next two minutes would follow him for the rest of his life. Whatever it was, he’d have to live with it. His breath was shaky, he felt his heart beating in his throat, and the more he told himself to calm down, the worse it got. He had no time, none at all. He was on the verge of crumbling and whatever it was, it needed to happen now. 

Harry turned swiftly around, pointing the wand in the direction of his bed, but instead of burning the letter, he Accioed it and began to read once more. He told himself to not stop at any point, to get through the rest without a pause or he wouldn’t finish it. 

_However, this was a preliminary contract that had to be ratified once both parties involved, Draco and Astoria, were of age, and both families were, at that point, still able to withdraw from the contract.  
After the war, I was convinced the Greengrasses would dissolve the unity on the grounds of Draco's conviction. For whatever reason, they had not, but both Draco and I had never really thought about it again. It was a piece of the past, and I am not sure if its existence had been on Draco's mind at all. It certainly had not been on mine since he’d been with you because the only thing I ever wanted was for my son to be happy.  
The moment you first entered our home to be properly introduced as my son’s partner, I saw it in Draco's eyes. Later in his behaviour whenever he was in the house and he thought nobody was there to see him. He grinned from ear to ear, unable to stop, his aura was vibrating, more colourful and bright than I had ever seen it. And his magic was noticeable everywhere because it had simply poured out of him. He never dared to talk of the future, not since it had been most unpredictable in his past, but I'm convinced he wanted to be with you for as long as you were to have him. _

_I can only imagine what it must do to you to read these words because they must hurt. To know that my son has loved you with all his heart and has still gone on to marry another person.  
Let me assure you that he has not done this out of his own free will, but rather to spare you pain. My late husband has done the cruellest thing to our family. What you will read now will sound like a fabrication, but it is the truth. If you do not believe me, please contact the Prime Minister or Ms Parkinson or Mr Weasley; they can all confirm it but have been sworn to secrecy. The only two people who could ever tell you about what happened when my husband came back are Draco and me. And as I’ve mentioned above, he would not write to you.  
When my husband came back that Saturday, he had a clear-cut plan to ensure the continuity of our line. To make it short, he wanted Draco to marry and produce an heir. Knowing my husband, I should have seen this coming, but I had hoped four years in Azkaban had changed him. _

_Well, it had, but it had only made him more vicious. On the day of his return, he had sat Draco down, dosed him secretly with Veritaserum and ~~made him confess~~ forced him to admit his feelings for you. I tried my best to stop him, but he had taken possession of my wand and used a Body-Binding Curse on me.  
All I was able to do was to listen. It was the most horrible torture. To witness my son being forced to bare his soul when — as he was forced to tell us — he had not even confessed his feelings to you was gut-wrenching. It broke my heart, and to Draco it must've done unspeakable things.  
Sadly, this is not the end of the story, rather the beginning of something even more horrible. The very next day, after a night spent in fear — we couldn’t leave the Malfoy Manor — Draco and I had been put under the Imperius Curse, and not just us. Lucius had invited the Greengrasses as well, all of them, and Draco and Astoria were forced to sign the new contract, the ratification of the old one. However, it was a different kind of magic._

_This new contract was a binding magical contract, similar to the magic which had been used on the Goblet of Fire. To guarantee the marriage would take place at the assigned date, penalties have been put in place. Cruel ones for Draco and Astoria.  
If Draco were to break the contract, every person on the Black side of the family tree, born two generations before and after Draco, would have died. Besides me, that would have included my sister and your godson, Teddy. If my son had broken the contract, his family, bar himself and his father, would have died. Lucius and Draco were protected by the Malfoy blood.  
This was all bad enough, but my late husband was not yet done with his plan. I only found out about the following when Lucius himself had been accused of breaking his parole which allowed the Ministry to use Veritaserum on him. The interrogation was led by your best friend and, in the light of what I have just told you, you can guess how it went. I never had the pleasure of properly being introduced to him, but from what I have seen of the interrogation, he is an incredible young man with a strategic mind. He made Lucius reveal all of it, and I will never forget the look of horror on everyone's faces when Mr Weasley’s statement was read out at Lucius’ hearing._

_Your friend told the wizards and witches about Lucius using the Imperius Curse on all of us before he revealed something abominable. I never thought my husband would be capable of performing this kind of magic on his own son, but he had. On the same day Draco and Astoria had signed the contract, he forced Astoria and Draco to make an Unbreakable Vow. Draco was never allowed to kiss you again or be kissed by you or he would die. You would have been responsible for his death if your lips were to be anywhere on his skin. It would not have mattered if it was intentional or not. You would have killed him, and this would have been something you would not have been able to live with.  
The only way out for Draco was to make certain you would never in your life speak to him again. That is why he put the announcement in The Daily Prophet and set the wards to not let anything sent by you through, let alone you yourself. I am unsure if he had predicted you coming to the manor the very next day, breaking through all the magical protections only to… you know better than anyone what happened that day._

_The only thing for me to answer is why now? After all this time? In my marital contract, it had been written that I can never betray my husband and testify against him. Now that Lucius is dead — executed the day before yesterday — my tongue is not tied any longer.  
I am deeply sorry Harry, all of this comes much too late. I am sorry to have caused you pain and opened up old wounds that might have healed already, but if I were in your position, I would have wanted to know the truth. I can only judge by this standard. Believe me when I tell you it is hard to betray my son's trust and confidence in this manner._

_I hope life has treated you well over the past few years._

_With kind regards,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Harry hadn’t even noticed that he'd slid down the door and was now sitting on the floor of his room, his back leaning against it. He still held the thin pieces of parchment in his hand, staring blankly at the letters and soon enough he couldn’t even make them out anymore. It was all black and light brown. He closed his eyes and finally let the tears run down his face. 

Everything he’d believed for four years was a lie. Draco had never done anything else but love him. Once again it hadn’t been his fault, but he had to pay the price for other people. He had been a victim of his circumstances. They had lost it all because of some fucking ideology about pure blood and continuity of bloodlines. Harry had beaten up Draco for something that hadn’t been his doing. Draco had done everything he could to not cause him more pain. Losing Teddy or unintentionally killing Draco… He couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would’ve made him feel. The hate he’d felt for so long was easier to handle for him, and Draco had known this. Because, in the end, Draco knew Harry better than he knew himself. 

Harry had lost so many people in the course of his life, another could have easily been it for him. He’d come too close to ending it all before, shortly after the war. They had talked about it more than once, exchanged their wildest fantasies on how they’d imagined to achieve their goal. Not that they would’ve considered it at that point anymore, but with Draco, he could talk about everything without fearing he’d be scared for his life, or force him to see yet another mind healer. 

Memories which had sealed away securely were again invading Harry’s brain. Snippets of them and their time together. The days they’d spent with Teddy, the pub nights with their friends. He remembered the letters Draco had sent him when he’d been in South America for four months, the ones he’d kept in a box in the back of the closet together with other memorabilia of their time. Their planned holiday where Harry had intended to put all the cards on the table. Say these words out loud for the first time in his life to someone who wasn’t friend or family. He remembered their last night together. The way Draco’s head had rested on his chest. It had been beautiful. It had been all he’d ever wanted. 

It had been ripped from his grip, and his heart had shattered into a million pieces. 

The entire world was whirling and his house felt too small and constricting. He needed to get out of here, but due to the wards all his attempts to Apparate failed. With his last strength remaining, he put on his shoes, grabbed his broom as well as the jacket covering and ran outside. 

The rain was lighter than before but still strong enough to soak him within minutes. After Harry had put the crumpled letter inside his jacket pocket, he mounted his broom and kicked himself off the ground. He flew straight up, going higher and higher, not caring about the cold. His glasses were covered with raindrops, making it impossible for him to see clearly, but there was no need for it. Up here, there was nobody but him. 

Every tear he shed was lost in the sea of raindrops hitting his face. His screams, his outcries were carried away by the wind. 

Eventually, he flew back towards the ground, on a small green island surrounded by nothing but water. Harry cried more than ever before, mourning about everything he’d lost. He cursed every deity for even allowing them to cross paths again. He’d been given a taste of true love, pure happiness but hadn’t been allowed to keep it. 

He screamed his lungs out, begging for forgiveness, asking why. Why them? Why had it all been taken away from him? Why? Why? Why? 

At some point, the tears stopped coming, his voice had stopped creating sounds. He sat on this small patch of green, drenched from head to toe , and took out the letter from the pocket of his jacket. He’d never forget its contents, but to have it lying around somewhere would drive him insane.

Now, he did what he’d wanted to do ever since he’d seen the handwriting on the envelope. He held the leaves of parchment in his left hand, reaching for his wand with the other. 

“Incendio.” 

From the bottom-right edge, the flame spread out, turning the brown pages black, consuming words letter by letter. Eventually, Harry let it fall to the ground, watching the wind carry the traces away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The breaks in the letter resemble pages. =)


	5. Now My Feet Are Back on the Ground (and I'm Stuck in a Reality Without You)

_1 September 2009_

_Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out._

Harry looked up and watched the people inside checking the time, running through the crowd, or entering a shop. His hands were clammy, his heart hammered inside his chest.

_In. One. Two. Three. And out._

There was no way around it. It would happen today. Harry checked his own watch and saw it was time.

 _In. One. Two. Three. And out._

With calmer nerves, Harry stepped forward, causing the glass door to separate, and entered King's Cross Station for the first time in so many years. No matter how hard it would be, he wouldn't miss Teddy’s first ride to Hogwarts for the world, even if it meant… Well, he had always known he had to cross that bridge one day.

Andromeda and Teddy told him they would wait for him in front of the entrance so they could get to the platform together. Harry remembered his first time, and even if Teddy — in contrast to himself — had grown up knowing magic existed, nobody really felt comfortable walking through a solid brick wall. 

Quickly, Harry made his way through the crowd consisting of Muggles and wizards. Since his return, he’d managed to stay clear of the press, but the stakes were high they would be here today. Everyone had known how much family and friends meant to Harry. 

Making his way through the station, Harry began to feel nervous. Being out in the public after such a long time away from home was bound to cause some sort of scene. He wasn’t sure how people would react, but they surely would react in some way. History spoke for itself. Harry knew, though, he had to keep his cool for his godson. This day was for Teddy, and him alone. It wouldn’t do anything good for either Harry or Teddy if Harry were to lose his temper, but if people threatened to ruin it… No, he couldn’t think like that. Instead, he forced himself to think positive. 

A wide smile spread on Harry’s when he finally met Teddy and Andromeda; he could literally see how nervous his godson was. His hair kept changing colours every other second, judging by the few strands that weren't covered by a hat. Andromeda seemed to have anticipated this. Teddy’s hands held the handle of the luggage trolley in a deadly grip, and Harry could see the slight tremor in the small body. 

It was still hard to believe that Teddy had turned eleven so fast. Harry himself felt almost ancient in comparison when he thought about his first ride to Hogwarts _eighteen years_ ago. 

"You ready?" Harry asked, putting a hand on Teddy's shoulder to calm him down. And maybe also to steady himself a bit.

By pointing with his index finger to the wall, his godson asked, "Can we really walk through?"

"I did it many years ago, and Andromeda has done it, too, but believe me when I tell you I couldn't believe it either." He smiled down at Teddy. "Do you want to go through together?"

The boy nodded and handed, with trembling hands, Harry the cage with his own owl. Harry thought to keep the tradition alive and had bought him an owl — a heart-shaped face barn owl — for his eleventh birthday. 

After letting out an audible breath, Teddy announced, "Let's go."

All three of them walked speedily towards the wall, Teddy was running, and when they actually came out on the other side, shock was written on Teddy's face. The disbelief of having walked into a wall without hurting himself. 

“Come on, we have to get out of the way.” Andromeda pulled lightly on his arm, effectively moving him aside in case more people would come through.

Harry observed Teddy and he could pinpoint the moment he caught the first proper sight of the shiny Hogwarts Express because of the boy's stunned-shocked expression. Teddy’s jaw dropped, his eyes were wide, and he mouthed ‘wow’. 

The train was as beautiful as the day he had first seen her, glowing scarlet and covering the air with steam. Teddy started to move to get closer to the train. He was totally in awe and paid no attention to the busy platform (Harry helped him stirring the luggage trolley), or the looks they were getting. 

In the corner of his eyes, Harry noticed a couple of small children pointing at him, and parents staring at him in disbelief. He was honestly surprised nobody broke line to shake his hand or shouted something at them. Looking over to his godson, Harry felt proud of him. Of the kind, loud and sometimes very clumsy boy he had become. And while he reminded most people of his mother, there was a lot of him that resembled Remus. Harry was sure that they would be as proud of their son as he was at this moment.

Suddenly, Harry felt a hand on his biceps and he looked over to Andromeda. He hadn't even noticed that his focus had been solely on Teddy for the last minutes. His heart sped up because he was anticipating it would happen now. 

"Do you wanna help Teddy to put his trunk and things away?"

"They're not here yet?"

"They'll come shortly before the train leaves the station."

Harry forced a weak smile on his face. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse now that he knew when it would happen. For now, however, he turned his attention back to his godson. 

“Shall we find you a seat?”

After Teddy had nodded in agreement, Harry flicked his wand, causing the trunk and other belongings to levitate. Teddy got into the train first, Harry, and the charmed objects followed him. They searched an empty compartment, and when they’d finally found one, they put all of Teddy’s stuff away and sat down for a minute. 

It felt weird to be back, but if he could, Harry would travel back to Hogwarts like this whenever he had the chance. He’d loved the train rides with his friends. 

Looking over to his godson, Harry noticed Teddy was fumbling with his hat. His hair had stopped changing colours, but it now had different shades of blue with a neon-yellow strand in between that was an assault to Harry’s eyes. Harry put a hand on Teddy’s knee and offered him a reassuring smile, feeling that Teddy wanted to talk to him, but that he needed time to find his words. 

“You met Ron on this train, right?” Teddy spoke without looking up. 

Harry huffed out a laugh. "Yes, I did. The entire train was full, and I ended up in his compartment."

"And you've been friends ever since.” He finally made eye contact, even if just for a brief moment. 

“Yeah, though we had our ups and downs. Ask Hermione or Ginny, we’ve caused them to roll their eyes and shake their heads in disbelief a lot at school. Actually, did you know that Hermione, Ron, and I haven’t been friends since the beginning?” Sharing this seemed like the right thing to do. Sometimes, it takes a bit of time to make friends. Ron and he had been lucky to get along on the train ride, but it could’ve been different. 

Teddy shook his head.

“To be honest, nobody really liked Hermione at first. She was a know-it-all, corrected everyone and was just… a pain in the arse. She still is of course, but we’ve learned how to handle her.” Harry saw that at least part of the tension had left Teddy’s body. “Hermione saved our arses a lot. Without her, Ron and I would be lost. Ron especially. I think that’s more or less why he married her.” Teddy began to laugh at that. 

“So even if I don’t find a friend straightaway—”

“—you’ll be all right. And you can always help Neville in the greenhouses if you feel lonely or write to me. I’m only an owl away, and I’m also gonna drop by from time to time to grab a pint with Neville. Don’t worry too much.” 

“Okay.” He huffed out a breath. “I think we have to go back outside. The train will leave soon, and I still have to say goodbye to everybody.” With that, Teddy stood up, opened the door of the compartment and walked away. Harry stayed behind, needing another minute to calm himself down. He was sure _they_ had arrived while he’d been on the train with his godson. He tried not to let the thoughts about the upcoming meeting overwhelm him before it had even happened.

Seven years. 

Seven years were such a long time, but after the initial two had felt like an eternity, the rest had flown by in the blink of an eye. Harry rubbed his right hand across his forehead and ran it through his hair a couple of times. 

Seven fucking years! So much had happened, and yet the mere thought about what had happened had the power to rip his heart to shreds. How much would it hurt when he would see _him_ again? 

The door of the compartment was slammed shut with such force that everybody in the near vicinity jumped in shock. Harry just stormed towards the next door, stopping in the door when his eyes caught sight of two white-blond heads standing across from Andromeda and Teddy. 

It was as if time had stood still. Harry’s mind was jumping back and forth, at such a speed it was making him dizzy. He thought about his hopes, the future Draco and he had planned together, all the time they’d had together, and how all of this had been shattered into pieces the day Harry had read the announcement in the papers. The years he’d spent in South America, and then the letter from Narcissa had turned his whole world upside down again. 

Similar to his thoughts, his feelings were all over the place. There was hurt, sadness, anger, despair, but the strongest one was regret. He should've seen behind Draco's façade, he should've known Draco wasn't capable of deceiving him like this, of pretending to be in love. He should've, he should've, he should've… But he hadn't!

Harry made two more steps and then his feet were on the platform once again. From where he stood, Draco was shielded from view by Narcissa and Andromeda. Harry should walk over to them, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move. Instead, he watched them from afar, how they all said goodbye to Teddy. Narcissa handed him a small present, whispering something in Teddy’s ear that made him smile. Her sister wiped a tear off her face and hugged him tightly for longer than necessary; it was Teddy who had eventually broken the embrace. The last one was Draco, but again his position allowed him to see nothing. It was probably for the best though, seeing him again could wait until Teddy was safely on the train and on his way to Hogwarts. 

After breaking free from the trio, Teddy sprinted over to where Harry stood, who picked him up and hugged him tight before putting him back onto the ground. Harry had a weird flashback to his fifth year when Sirius had come to see him off. Harry was now doing the same for Teddy. 

“Any last-minute advice?” 

Harry shook his head. “I think you’re all good.” 

They heard the hiss of the steam. “Now, quickly, get on board before the train leaves without you,” Harry said, nodding towards the nearest train door. 

His excitement was evident in the way Teddy practically jumped into the train. In no time, he was in his compartment, opened the window and shouted goodbyes at Harry and the rest. 

The train rolled out of the station. When he was out of sight, the crowd around Harry thinned out. After huffing out a bit of air, he felt a hand on his right shoulder, gently squeezing down. He put his own hand on top of it, returning the squeeze. Harry felt sad. It was not every day you said goodbye to your godchild like this. He was used to having him half a year at a time, not just for three months scattered out over the year. 

“Will it get easier? Did you ever get used to it?” 

“Not really.” Harry saw Narcissa stepping into view on his left side, turning to face him. “But the time apart only makes the reunion better.”

“That’s true, Cissy. You appreciate it more when you only have two weeks over Christmas and Easter.” 

“And every time you see them again, you feel so proud because they’ve learned a lot. Although,” Harry felt her chuckling, “in Dora’s case that usually meant more chaos.” 

At that, Harry turned to face her. He hadn’t even thought about how this day would be for Andromeda without her daughter present to see her son off. Narcissa reached out to her sister, taking her hand. It was the most affectionate Harry had ever seen the sisters in public. Harry searched for the right words, but there were none. Only on special days like these did Andromeda show how much she missed them all. Her family. 

“Come, Andy, let’s take you home. I’m gonna get some of that wonderful strudel my house-elf has made.” Then she looked at Harry. “It was nice to see you again. Don’t be a stranger.” 

Narcissa shook his hand, Andromeda followed suit, then they were off through the brick wall. All that remained were Harry and… 

Harry hadn’t even paid attention to him since the Hogwarts Express had left the station. Draco was easy to spot, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him. The distance between them was closed in seconds, and while Harry was still searching for words, Draco began to speak. 

“Not here.” His voice was calm, though firm. 

Draco subsequently turned around, walking in a quick pace towards the exit. He didn’t wait for Harry to catch up but vanished in the wall. Harry shook his head a couple of times before he sprang into action and chased after him. When he came out on the other side, Harry was sure Draco would be there, but all he saw was a flurry of black robes and a white-blond head walking away from him. 

_Do I really want to do this?_

The gap between Draco and him expanded by the second, but Harry was rooted to the spot, admiring Draco from the distance. 

The most stunning man to walk the earth. In all these years, Draco had only become more beautiful, something Harry hadn’t even thought possible. His blond hair shone so brightly, it was almost blinding. His pointy features had softened a tad, making him look gentler, and his skin was still impeccable and probably also as soft as it had been all those years ago. 

Draco stopped suddenly and whirled around to face Harry, a smile spread across his face as he held out his hand. Harry wanted to shake his head, letting Draco know he wouldn’t be following, but before he could, his legs began to move on their own accord. In speedy steps, he crossed the platform, coming to a halt in front of Draco. 

There was no real conscious thought in Harry’s mind anymore now that his eyes were fixed on Draco. Pain was the only thing that remained. It felt like every single muscle was constricting, he felt a lump building in his throat and his eyes began to well up. 

Just when Harry started to beat himself up again for all the missed opportunities, he saw Draco’s hand slowly but surely moving towards his own. A tentative brush of their fingertips sent a spark through Harry’s body. As if in slow motion, Draco intertwined their hands. The small caress re-ignited an almost burned down fire. His skin was still so soft and it felt so good to hold his hand. 

“Come with me,” Draco declared before he pulled Harry through the crowd, carefully navigating them away from witches and wizards. He led them out of the station, and into a nearby park. They walked underneath a bridge and before Harry could utter a single sound, he felt his world twisting and spinning. 

As soon as he felt solid ground under himself again, Harry was ready to throw up. He braced himself against the nearest surface with one hand and tried his best to not be sick all over…

 _Where the fuck am I?_

The light in the room was dim, but still bright enough to see everything. In front of him was a chopping board on top of a wooden workbench, and to his left was a small washbasin. Harry looked over to the other side and saw phials, flasks, and other glassware, some filled with colourful liquids, others empty but with a parchment label fixed on them. The air around him was heavy and filled with different fumes. Without a doubt, this was a potion’s lab. 

“What is this?” 

When Harry attempted to turn around to Draco, something held him back. Somehow Harry had completely forgotten that he was still holding Draco’s hand. They fitted as perfectly as they had all these years ago, his own olive skin a stark contrast to Draco’s pale tone. Yin and Yang. They looked like they belonged together, and yet… 

Draco suddenly jerked away as if he’d been burned, releasing Harry’s hand while doing so. 

After clearing his throat, he stated, “My workplace, and it’s entirely mine. It’s the small store next to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Astoria bought it from George two years ago before she-”

“Your aunt has filled me in. I’m sorry Draco, it can’t imagine what it must be like.” 

“It’s getting better, I just miss my friend.” 

Neither of them knew how to continue; Harry nervously looked around over the bubbling cauldrons, the cabinet in the back stocked to the brim with different potions. 

“Anyway, I—” 

“What is—”

They both spoke at the same time, chuckled, then Harry said. “You first.” 

“I just wanted to say that I brew most of the day, and in between I send out owls for delivery. Sometimes, I experiment with George here.” 

“No storefront?” 

“Too expensive and nobody would want to be seen buying from me. It’s easier. What did you want to ask?”

“What’s the name of your shop?”

“Fire and Air.” He turns around, picks up an envelope and hands it to Harry. 

On the right-hand side, Harry saw a green dragon breathing fire, making the shops’ name appear on the envelope. It vanished again after a bit, and then the whole process was repeated. 

When Harry looked up once again and his eyes finally met Draco’s, time — like all those years ago — stood still once more. Right now, Harry wished he could turn it back and do it all over again, but he would do it right this time and try to find a way out. Because there had to be one. They had always found a way. 

Harry would be there for Draco, even if letting go in the end would be so much harder. 

The same emotions, the same thoughts were mirrored on Draco’s face. His stormy grey eyes, usually full of zest and mischief, had lost their normal spark. Harry couldn’t look at him anymore. It hurt too much. 

His eyes scanned the lab anew. The entire room practically screamed Draco. All neat and tidy, but it was still cosy and homey. Harry’s green eyes fell onto Draco’s desk and… 

_No. Impossible! This... No..._

Harry crossed the room and slid into the chair in front of the desk. He picked up the item. The last time he’d held it in his hands was at Malfoy Manor when he’d put it down onto the stone floor a moment before he’d left. Their Portkey to the cottage in Wales. A stuffed animal, a fiery red dragon. It was supposed to be a joke because a red dragon was part of the Welsh flag, and, secondly, because of Draco’s name.

Harry's breaths came out shaky, his hands trembled as he held the animal tightly against his chest. All these years, Draco had kept it, looked at it whenever he was at work. The first tear trickled down Harry’s cheek. Followed by another and before he knew it, tears streamed down his face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Harry choked between sobs. “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” he repeated over and over. 

From behind, a strong pair of arms engulfed him in a tight embrace. Draco’s face rested on his shoulder. Harry turned his head away instead of leaning in as he wanted. Too scared he might accidentally brush his lips against Draco’s skin and then he’d be...

It dawned on Harry that this was the one and only time they would ever be this close. For the rest of their lives. If not, one of them would slip — with fatal consequences.

Never again would he be able to kiss the back of Draco’s hand just because he felt like it. Never again would he be able to press a kiss to his forehead, telling him it’d all be okay in the end. Never again Draco could sweep him off his feet with one of those maddening, world-altering kisses. Because it would kill Draco. 

The grip around Harry tightened. The warmth radiating from Draco spread like Fiendfyre through Harry’s body. It soothed him and broke him apart. There was no chance of them ever going back to the way they were. 

For seven years Harry had been lacking an important part, and now he felt somewhat whole again. Although a chipped mug was still working, it missed a piece. A deep wound left a scar on before impeccable skin. Once broken, nothing would ever be whole again.

For as long as he’d live, Harry would be incomplete.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs by Our Last Night 
> 
> World Divided  
> White Tiger  
> Demons  
> Tongue Tied  
> Forgotten Souls  
> Reality Without You
> 
> \--
> 
> Remember to leave some love for the creator if you can! Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://hd-hurtfest.tumblr.com/) on the H/D Hurt!Fest tumblr page!


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